


One Good Honest Kiss

by Suggilates



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls III
Genre: Cunnilingus, M/M, Minor Mentions of Violence, Trans Male Character, old man appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 14:56:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18345965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suggilates/pseuds/Suggilates
Summary: Patches and Greirat spend their sunset together.





	One Good Honest Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much Hambone for all your editing and great advice, you're the best!  
> Also Greirat is trans

    The hardest part of living in firelink shrine is finding things to do in between the quick visits from the Unkindled Ash. The boredom was going to kill him. Hours stretch into days and all Greirat could do was sit on his little stool, surrounded by ankle deep water, and wait. After his close call in Irithyll the Unkindled forbid him from leaving to pillage Lothric. Greirat knew the greed of man, and it would only be a matter of time till they changed their mind and sent him out again, he was sure. Greirat would be patient till then, keeping himself busy in the shrine. Usually Andre’s ceaseless banging against his anvil could fade into the background but at that moment it was infuriating. Greirat fought himself over leaving for what seemed like ages before finally clapping his hands over his thighs and pushing himself up. A walk should ease the agony of a stagnant day.

    The roof of the shrine was nice, if a little hard to get to, but with some creative tree climbing Greirat could get up and sit in the sun. The only sound Greirat could hear on the roof was the whistle of wind through the trees. The warmth of the sun and the relaxing breeze… It was so easy to slip into a nap, perfectly comfortable in his usually stuffy hood. He’d spent years in it, the large wooden collar around his neck was supposed to keep him from laying down, but Greirat learned he could sort of tilt it the right way and it couldn’t dig into his collarbone quite as badly.

    It must have been a few hours before Greirat stirred at the sound of steps. Someone was carefully hopping down from the bridge.

    “Oi, you slinking rodent!” Patches was easing his way off the crumbled pillar, feet not quite scraping the tiling of the roof as he tried to drop down.

    “Need a hand?” Greirat made no move to get up as he offered his assistance. Patches only replied with a small grunt as he landed on the roof, nearly slipping, but catching himself and he trotted over to where Greirat was still reclined on the tiles. Greirat stretched back out, folding his arms behind his head with a contented sigh. Patches dropped to a crouch beside him, gauging Greirat’s reaction and glancing around the rooftop for witnesses, then plopped squarely on his ass beside the old rat. Greirat looked cozy enough to fall right back asleep.

    “Bored of your new friends already?” Patches teased. Greirat got along with other people naturally, but the other inhabitants of firelink didn’t make for great company. Greirat rolled onto his side, propped his head up on his hand, and gave Patches a slow glance as he chuckled politely.

    “The folks here are nice. Our Unkindled Ash doesn’t seem to trust me pillaging after Irithyll… I might be safe here, but, I-I can’t help finding myself wishing I was anywhere else. Maybe even back in that cell.” The wry smile was evident in Greirat’s voice. Patches chuckled at that. Greirat might be a nice person, but he was just as prone to boredom as anyone else, especially with how __eager__ everyone here was to talk to one another. They were like a den of eels, each new member of the shrine tucking themselves away into corners, silent as ghosts. Patches was no better, but at least he chose a spot with a good view, doubly so one out of earshot of Andre’s banging. Not to mention Patches’ __stellar__ reputation among the residents of the shrine, even though he’d been a model squatter, he had been met with plenty of threats since the beginning of his stay in firelink. These days no one appreciated an honest shopkeep.

    Greirat pat the tile beside him invitingly and Patches accepted, scooting a little closer and laying himself out on the sun warmed roof. It was a little nostalgic laying together in the late afternoon, their first meeting all those years ago was just before sunset; they had caught one another’s eye- and Greirat Patches’ coin purse. Patches tracked him till nightfall, losing the surprisingly spry old man in the crowds and twisting side streets of the once bustling undead settlement. When Patches finally found him again Greirat was waiting for him, sat at a tavern with two drinks and an empty seat beside him. They talked till the sun rose, and Greirat didn’t apologize for stealing his coin purse, and Patches didn’t apologize for stealing a kiss.

    The rapid sound of footfalls jarred Patches from his memory, sitting up abruptly and scooting away from Greirat to look over the roof to see who was approaching. The Unkindled Ash tore past, flying up the tower and across the bridge, disappearing into the belltower. Patches looked over at Greirat who gave a short laugh.

    “Shall we move inside?” Greirat offered.

    Greirat really had scoured every inch of the shrine. He had Patches tail him towards the front of firelink, moving carefully through an opening to the rafters of the building. Used to such precarious climbs, Greirat had no issue crouching, carefully passing through an enormous bird’s nest to a dead end at the other side of the rafters. Patches was crawling on hands and knees. Starting to think Greirat was just teasing him, Patches was about to yell at him before Greirat struck the wall in front of him and it disappeared. __Sneaky sneaky…__ Greirat hopped down, landing safely next to a pillaged chest, he turned over his shoulder and saw Patches had his arms wrapped carefully around the rafter he was on. He looked like a cat stuck in a tree; Patches was starting with one leg then the other to test how far he needed to stretch to reach the ground.

    “Need me to help you down? Oh, just jump you baby.” The smile in Greirat’s voice made Patches scoff, then shout as he dropped from his perch. Patches landed on his feet but slipped- falling flat on his ass. Greirat clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter, then laughed out loud when he extended his hand to Patches. Patches grabbed his hand, but yanked Greirat down to the ground with him.

    “I ought to kick you right off this damn ledge!” Patches shouted, man handling Greirat till he had him trapped beneath him, Greirat tried and failed to hold back laughter in the struggle. The tussle only stilled once Patches had his hands on Greirat’s shoulders, pinning him to the floor with a leg trapped between his. Greirat’s dying laughter shook his shoulders a few more times, but a hush seemed to fall over them. Patches could see the way Greirat’s eyes glittered even in the dark of his hood. Patches shivered as Greirat trailed his fingertips up the back of his arm, he could almost feel his heart beating against his ribs as it throbbed.

    “I wish you’d let me pick the lock on your hood… I know you’d like the view a lot better if you could actually see my handsome face.” Patches said, grinning. He released a hand to trace over the collar circling Greirat’s neck; a wooden wheel with a thin metal band spanning the circumference. He could see the way it hurt his neck when he was laying down. Greirat hummed, trailing his way behind Patches’ ear to watch his eyelids flutter.

    “I-I’m not sure __you’d__  like the view. It has been quite a few years, you know.” Greirat’s tone was light. Sure, his hood was a nuisance, but he wasn’t the kind of man who asked for help. He’d be fine staying in his hood, plus, no one could tell when he was having a nap. Patches grumbled, honestly looking a little flustered as he brought his hand from Greirat’s collar to his jaw, cupping it gently. Greirat could clock that uncharacteristic blush anywhere.

    “I find myself missing kisses, too,” Greirat sighed, tracing his thumb over the shell of Patches’ ear idly “But I truly don’t mind the old thing. You’re creative, aren’t you? It’ll be fine.”

    It wasn’t easy to ask for help, and Greirat had already spent so many years trapped, he wasn’t sure what to even expect if he were to be freed. It was better to let the mystery stay a mystery. Greirat savored the blush across Patches’ face, ear warm against his palm. Patches chuckled at that, of course the old rat was still quick enough to pick up on something to tease him over. Greirat encouraged Patches to lean down, giving a quick peck, noting the way the collar dug into his neck when they made contact. With his hood the feeling was almost entirely null. Greirat huffed as Patches sat up, gently petting Patches’ cheekbone with his thumb.

    “Oh, I’m __much__ more than creative, luv.” Patches murmured, nuzzling against the inside of Greirat’s wrist. Greirat opened his mouth to rib at him again but was cut off with a sigh when Patches pressed a kiss against the pulse. Patches brought his hand back to cup Greirat’s, pressing another kiss, and another. Greirat cooed softly, flexing his fingers against Patches’, encouraging him to thread his fingers between Greirat’s. It was sentimental and embarrassing, but Patches couldn’t bring himself to refuse such a request; especially not when he pressed an open kiss to Greirat’s wrist and he could feel Greirat’s hips stir around the thigh he had trapped between them. Patches nipped at Greirat’s pulse and Greirat sucked a breath through his teeth. Patches chuckled lowly. Greirat was far too cute for his own good. He might not be able to get that hood off, but Patches was damn sure gonna make him feel just as appreciated as he would with the hood off.

    Greirat’s pulse was erratic against Patches’ kiss, almost ticklish with how it fluttered. The old wounds made for a unique sensation against Patches’ lips, evidence of Greirat’s imprisonment. The jailers of Lothric were well known for their cruelty, something with which Greirat was all too familiar. Patches couldn’t break him out, but he could visit him when they had him in the town square in the stocks. Easy to see the way his back was bent, his wrists wrought red from his cuffs. Patches turned Greirat’s hand in his grasp, and pressed a kiss to Greirat’s palm. Greirat lazily lifted his other arm, holding it out for Patches to reel in, and Patches was happy to oblige. Greirat’s hips twitching against his thigh just inspired Patches to work a little harder, flicking his tongue between Greirat’s digits and nipping at the tips of his fingers.

    Patches pulled Greirat’s arm away from him, releasing the other, and kissed his way to the crook of Greirat’s elbow, pushing back his sleeve and biting lightly at the thin skin of the joint. Greirat hissed appreciatively, his free hand skirting up Patches’ thigh to his belt; deft hands, used to picking pockets, made quick work of the Patches’ belt and pauldron. Patches unlaced their fingers, freeing up his hands to pry his gloves off. Burying his face in the junction of Greirat’s neck, Patched wedged himself under Greirat’s collar. The old rat smelled like sweat and ash. Everything smelled like ash, but Greirat was different; like a bonfire, comforting and familiar. Greirat liked to keep himself clean, but with all the wares he sold, it was only natural some of those scents would rub off on the old rat. If he focused Patches could almost suss out exactly what he’d been selling, but Greirat’s hand teasing at the nape of his neck got him back on track, nipping shortly at Greirat’s neck.

    Greirat keened, cupping the back of Patches head and urging him a little closer, to bite a little harder. Patches did as he was asked, digging his teeth into Greirat’s exposed neck. Greirat’s thighs clamped around Patches’ as he moaned through his clenched jaw. Patches set his hands at Greirat’s knees, sliding his hands up the outside of Greirat’s thighs, till he got to Greirat’s belt, unbuckling it then starting on Greirat’s chest piece. Pushing up his chainmail, Patches smoothed his hands up Greirat’s stomach, greedily exploring Greirat’s skin, and cataloged the scars and bruises littering his old hide. Greirat hummed, helping Patches get a better look by pulling his mail to his collar bone, exposing his wrinkled chest tantalizingly. Patches dipped down to mouth over the expanse of scars, reveling in the shower of gasps and sighs he received. Patches wormed his hands under Greirat’s back, following the prominent bumps of his vertebra to his hips, fitting his thumbs in the grooves of the bone. Greirat moaned Patches’ name softly.

    “I’m not some fragile old man,” Greirat reminded. Half listening, Patches nodded; still breathlessly kissing up Greirat’s chest, nipping around Greirat’s pecs with a little more gusto. Starting to feel needy, Patches pulled Greirat against him, shifting his thigh between Greirat’s and grinding their hips together. That contact was electric, sparks shooting through Greirat and warming him like an ember. Patches ground his thigh against Greirat’s groin, wheezing a laugh when the fabric slid easily; his old rat must have really missed him if he was that wet. Greirat sat up to free himself of his chainmail, cursing when it started catching on his collar.

    “It wouldn’t even be hard. I can get this hood off of you in a second.” Patches huffed, tugging at the mail caught around Greirat’s hood. Greirat swatted at Patches’ hands, irritated that he kept acting like he needed assistance.

    “I’m no-I’m not a child! If I need your help I’ll ask!” Greirat didn’t raise his voice often and it caught Patches off guard. The shock of the outburst rippled through them, Greirat was immediately embarrassed. Taking Patches’ hands in his, Greirat brought them back to his chest, placing them heartily where they were before. Not wanting to sour the mood, Greirat spoke up.

    “Just… Leave it for now. I-I don’t need to be naked to enjoy you.” His stutter wasn’t always noticeable to Patches, but when Greirat was nervous it was much more prominent. Feeling vulnerable wasn’t comfortable but it got frustrating when Greirat would refuse any and all help. Huffing a sigh, Patches nodded; he could be alright with Greirat staying mostly clothed, as long as his trousers weren’t going to get stuck as well. Greirat smoothed his hands up Patches’ arms and cupped his jaw, he wanted to salvage the moment they were having. Greirat gently pressed his thumb to Patches’ lips, tracing the shape till Patches broke into a smile; he wouldn’t know, but Greirat was smiling right back. Patches let Greirat have his fun for a moment, testing the swell of his lip, before he bit the tip of his thumb. Greirat laughed a deep, rumbling laugh.

    “I can get naked enough for the both of us.” Patches said with a wink. Greirat gave a proper laugh at that, letting his hands come to rest around his head to watch his little show. Wiggling in imitation of a dance, Patches began to raise his shirt, absolutely beaming at Greirat’s giggling.

    “I’m not getting any younger, you know,” Greirat teased, pinching at Patches’ stomach as it was exposed to him. Patches sighed, feigning disappointment, and tossed his shirt away. The view was nice. Patches didn’t seem it, but he was surprisingly strong. Slight definition of his abs, arms nicely toned, but still slim. Seeing the small tattoo on Patches’ chest always made Greirat blush. It was a small “X” over his heart.

    The sentimentality of it struck him deep; when Greirat had gotten clapped in irons the authorities in Lothric shoved paper after paper in front of him. He wasn’t a strong reader and was even weaker at writing. They told him he could sign with an “X” and he didn’t have much choice otherwise. Patches was so full of such sweet surprises. He’d shown him the tattoo a few days after Greirat had told him his story.

    “Stunned by my beauty?” Patches asked, cocking an eyebrow. Greirat gave another laugh

    “Blinded by that dome you call a head, more like.”

    Mocking offense at such an insult, Patches put his hand over his heart, acting as if he’d been struck. Greirat rolled his eyes, tilting his head in exaggeration to be sure Patches could tell. Never one for theatrics, Greirat slid his hand under Patches’ own, brushing over the tattoo with his thumb. Patches cleared his throat and pet his free hand down Greirat’s stomach, and cupped Greirat’s crotch. He was so warm in his hand. Patches ran his finger between Greirat’s lips. He could feel just how wet he was even though the fabric. Flattered, Patches gently worked the heel of his palm over Greirat.

    He was so responsive, cursing and twitching his hips against him. Withdrawing his hand nice and slow, Patches teased a finger under Greirat’s waistband. Greirat tilted his hips up and adjusted slightly, reaching his hands under him, untying his waistband and letting them fall slack. Patches rolled his hips slowly against Greirat’s one last time before disengaging. He hooked his fingers in Greirat’s waistband and slid them off. Quite close to salivating and now sat between his legs, Patches let his eyes drag over Greirat’s thighs; this rat might be old, but he never outgrew his good looks. Even just looking at Greirat laying disheveled under him made his dick throb. As nice as Patches’ leering was Greirat began to feel impatient, and he hiked a leg up to expose his sex.

    Taking the hint, Patches caged Greirat between his arms, leaning in to nip at the hollow of Greirat’s throat. Stringing a trail of kisses down his stomach, Patches drank in the way Greirat’s breathing hitched as he kissed him. His old Rat was less keen to rougher experiences in his old age, but it didn’t sour his enthusiasm. Patches sank lower and spread Greirat open, parting him with two fingers and experimentally licked a stripe. If Greirat’s moan was anything to go by, he was on the right track.

    Tasting Greirat was just as intoxicating as drinking ale, it made Patches dizzy. Patches settled in and lapped between Greirat’s folds, tracing patterns across the lips. Falling into a rhythm was so easy, Patches dug his nose into Greirat’s pubic bone, sealed his lips over Greirat’s clit and sucked. Greirat’s thighs twitched as they framed Patches’ head and Patches used his free hand to lift a leg over his shoulder, slightly more comfortable for his old man’s body. The headache from Greirat’s thighs clamping around Patches’ head was a small price to pay for hearing his quailing moans. Patches ran his tongue in small circles, wetting his chin trailing his way down Greirat’s pussy. If only Patches could bottle the noises Greirat made, he’d never need estus again; just hearing Greirat call his name made warmth blossom in his chest. There was warmth blossoming elsewhere as well, Patches could feel his cock straining in his trousers, already bubbling pre.

    Tunnel vision consumed Patches, so focused licking Greirat open, he almost missed the delicate way Greirat reached down and cupped the back of his head. With no hair to hold onto, Greirat would sometimes palm Patches’ head in the heat of the moment, and on particularly unlucky days he’d grab Patches’ ears. Greirat’s palm was warm and almost trembling where it held Patches’ head, fitting perfectly in his hand. Shaking with sensation, Greirat couldn’t keep his hips still, he bucked against Patches’ mouth and he pulled him so close he could feel the way his nose dug into his crotch. Too lost in the haze, Greirat couldn’t bring himself to care. Surely the other inhabitants of firelink could hear Greirat’s moans by now, as they echoed across the stone walls. They’d have no right to complain for being graced with such sweet sounds. So moved by Greirat’s encouragement, Patches ground his hips on the ground for any sort of relief from the tightness of his trousers. Even the harsh stone felt like heaven on his untouched cock.

    Greirat’s moans started to die off halfway through, so out of breath he couldn’t keep up. Patches’ obscene slurping was drowning out most of his thoughts, but he could feel the way Greirat dug his heels into his back. He was close. Patches redoubled his efforts, swirling his tongue around Greirat’s clit. Being driven absolutely mindless with pleasure, Greirat couldn’t tell how hard he was digging his nails into Patches’ scalp, his gentle touch turning into a harsh and desperate grip. Greirat held Patches flush against him, if he were to pull away for even a second, he might die. Patches’ nose was buried so deep in Greirat’s curls all he could smell was Greirat, all he could taste was Greirat. Ale had nothing on the way the Greirat tantalized Patches, eyes rolling back as he reveled in the taste on his tongue, those moans in his ears, and the haze that settled over his mind; pure Greirat in every one of his senses.

    Greirat came with a breaking sob, digging into Patches like he’d disappear if he were to let up even a little; luckily for him Patches had no intention of stopping. The ringing in Greirat’s ears faded slowly, his body unwinding in waves; legs relaxing enough to release Patches from the death grip of his thighs. A long moment passed before Greirat could think enough to raise his head, he was greeted by a starry-eyed Patches; still sitting dazzled by his taste of Greirat. Realization took embarrassingly long to hit, and Greirat sat up with a start.

    “Oh- dear- did you-? Do you want me to-?” Greirat started. Patches locked eyes with him, his expression dark but satisfied, it shot a shiver down Greirat’s spine.

    “Not to worry, luv.” Patches slurred, and thumbed slick from his lip. Hearing Greirat cum while screaming his name… Patches would never need anything else to jerk off to. Licking his thumb for a quick taste, Patches noted his pants were sticky with cum- he hadn’t gotten as naked as he planned to. Greirat hummed, reaching out to press his fingertips to Patches’ lips; fatigue starting to set in after such a shattering orgasm. Patches nipped playfully at Greirat’s fingers. This old rat still had such a sway over his heart, even just seeing Greirat start to drift off made his chest throb.

    The Unkindled Ash could send Greirat off to some new, dangerous land at any time. Patches wanted to spend a little bit longer in the sunset with Greirat.


End file.
